Reticent Savior
by Athena Solaris
Summary: [Female Exile character piece, experiment in second person] You were the very definition of duality.  To your enemies, a murderer.  To your allies, a savior.  And to yourself, never true.


**Reticent Savior**

**I.**

Revan entered the Academy the same year as you, though you were taken to Dantooine in autumn and Revan had arrived earlier, in the spring. You were shocked at the climate. The ground was dry, and instead of the floods and steel and white walls of Kamino, you saw dirt and grass and stone. While other students seemed to think little of the sunshine, you cherished it.

It didn't take long for you to realize that the sunlight was unremarkable, unlike those rare occasions when the clouds broke for a few minutes on your homeworld. But you would still sit alone in the sun for hours, as if to make up fro the years in which your life had lacked its brilliance. You knew full well that you should have been meditating. Instead, you simply basked in the light. One day, Revan approached you. From the day she arrived, she was self-assured and outgoing. You always did find it strange that she befriended a loner like you.

You watched her as she learned lessons, either in the classroom or by virtue of the universe itself. You were jealous that she mastered in hours the techniques you had only managed to master in weeks. Yet you were her sister, just as she was yours. Everyone around her knew, as you did, that she was bound for greatness. Regardless of the masters' warnings against what they called hubris, she was the pride of the academy and you were simply that other young woman.

With her friendship came others through the years. Malak, Tirmar, Liselette…as they faded from the Jedi, so they faded from your mind. The five of you taught each other, helped each other grow. You yourself changed from a shy, soften-spoken girl into a woman of quiet intensity. The others changed too. Malak and Revan became obsessed with the "higher mysteries" the masters always spoke of. Tirmar and Liselette became obsessed with each other and left the Academy.

You and Revan took different paths at the age of sixteen. She began training as a Consular, while you chose the Guardian's path.

Revan possessed enough raw mental power and Force potential to surprise and delight even the Council. You were brushed aside as a mediocre warrior until Kavar, then a knight, took it upon himself to help you. That was probably why you apprenticed under him for a time. Where the others seemed frustrated with your apparent lack of strength, he saw a tactical advantage in your acrobatic reflexes.

With his help, you surpassed mediocrity, though Master Kavar still beat you every time. Revan was beginning to match the power of her teachers and had done so on her own.

Inferiority hurt more often than not, but when frustration washed over you, you deafened yourself to it. Each time, your mind had to scream the Code louder and louder, until you yourself went deaf. You heard only the Code, and the dire warnings rippling through the universe were but whispers, whispers that disappeared when you tried to attune yourself to them.

**II.**

You did not leave immediately to fight the Mandalorians, like Revan and Malak did. You trusted the Council enough to give the conflict some time. But time always has been and always will be relative. While they had only begun to wait, you were out of patience. You left at night so no one would see you. You told the night watch that you were heading into the hills to meditate. You boarded a transport to Nar Shaddaa, and from there, you reached the front lines.

Forgotten was your promise to another student. You had promised to help him open his mind and experience the tranquility the Force had to offer. Instead, you had closed your own mind and, slowly, the chaos seeped into your heart.

Though a Jedi, you were faceless among the soldiers of the Republic. All that mattered was your lightsaber and your robes. You balked when they put a gun in your hands, not because you were a poor shot, but because they wanted you to carry it into battle. You protested that you would never use it, but they insisted.

You had been trained at the Academy to fight quickly and without encumbrance. On the battlefield, you learned to fight like a criminal, with your clothing soaked in sweat, marsh water and unrelenting rain. You learned to fight while smoke blinded you, artillery fire deafened you, and the death throes of your comrades numbed your senses. What the Order had refused to teach you of pain, you learned as planets fell and entire peoples died around you.

To have the depths of your beliefs shaken and tested in such a way was not an easy thing to endure. Before, you believed that it took strength to walk in the light. After many battles lost and few battles won, you knew better. Few have what it takes to walk in shadow and not succumb, and fewer still are willing to test their will in such away. They were weak. Part of you would have loved nothing more than to end their pathetic lives, while the other part sought to lift them above the suffering.

You were the very definition of duality. To your enemies, a murderer. To your allies, a savior. And to yourself, never true.

**III.**

The war corrupted you, but not the way the Council had promised. You were still whole and you still believed in mercy, in some sick and twisted way. They saw the ways in which you had changed. There was pain in your eyes, terror in your soul, disillusion in your mind and blood on your hands. For this, they took your lightsaber and ripped the Force from you.

You had heard of the punishment before. When you imagined having the Force stripped from your being, you imagined it being far more painful. You felt nothing, perhaps because after the war, there was nothing left to feel.

In that vast tear in the fiber of your being, you found only restlessness. You left the core worlds in search of something—you didn't know what. You weren't even sure you would recognize once you found it. Weeks went by, then months, then years. Finally, your fruitless journey led you back into Republic space, where the Sith, awakened by Revan's actions, became the next great crisis.

You returned to find a galaxy as tattered as you. You knew that one power must prevail, even then. You came to understand the reasons why the Order urged restraint. The galaxy had turned to excess, and the result would inevitably be catastrophe. It was only a matter of time.

From the moment of your return to Republic space, all you had wanted was to live in quiet obscurity, but neither the universe nor the Force have ever shown much consideration for your wishes.

**IV.**

You carry with you the scars of wars before, those fought with others and within yourself. No doubt the struggle has made you stronger. Try as you might, you cannot resent all that has happened to you. The chaos of the galaxy will not leave you alone. Reluctantly, you choose to do what you can. The sides are not yet drawn, for you have yet to cast your lot. Never before have you felt so important, nor felt so much awe at the power one person could hold.

You find it strange to be traveling with others again and you would hardly call the old woman or the cynical pilot good company, but the mere presence of others is a warmth you have not felt in a long time.

She wants to teach you, but her teachings are different. Already you sense that she seeks a twisted sort of crusader, not a hero, not a diplomat. And he wants to help you. You know that for certain, despite his façade and despite the fact that his mind is slippery as glass. You are suspicious of him, but you know that many are stronger than one.

You decide to accept those tenuous allies who come to you, for you no longer desire isolation. But you fear that in the end, despite their presence at your side, your final path will be one which you alone can walk.

**End**

_Author's Notes: Oh, second person. More fun than it should be. I could never decide if I liked the style, but I'm beginning to think that it can be effective. I'll let you decide if I have used it well._

_The Exile here is a gray-sider. Hopefully I've written this in such a way that you kind of got that impression. As always, feedback and constructive criticism are both highly appreciated._


End file.
